


Cover Story

by cecilantro



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 06:15:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14538465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecilantro/pseuds/cecilantro
Summary: (Spoilers for 9x17)It's just not something they're used to.





	Cover Story

****

She’s just  _ not used to it _ . Neither of them are, really, no, and they didn’t expect it to be between  _ them _ that the first thin threads of trust would blossom. But Caleb watches Beau’s fingers run across the inscription on her belt and notes the way her nails are carefully chewed into crescents, it’s so perfect that it’s uncharacteristic for Beau, always a little rough at the edges in the most glowing way. Setting fire to paper, the crackle and the danger and the uncontrollable power, that’s Beau.   
He blinks at her fingertips, and then up at her, and she seems… nervous. Like she’s holding out for his approval.   
He looks back at her fingertips and she’s pressing just an edge too hard, he looks at his own hands as he reaches out and sets his fingertips  to the backs of her fingers, preferring skin to the bracing bandages. He meets her eyes, uncomfortable but she needs it, now.   
“Thank you.”   
And that’s what they’re not used to.   
The honest and open.   
It’s uncomfortable and weird and they spring apart, Beau goes to Fjord’s side and Caleb finds himself by Molly, winding his scimitar around his fingers as though juggling, a carnival trick that Caleb knows is an indicator of his nerves. He’s smiling, though, and that’s not fake. A fan of crowds to some extent, is Molly, when they pause he turns to Caleb.   
Fingers slip through the clean hair at the back of Caleb’s head and Molly kisses him just above the hairline, above his ear.   
“Glad we took that bath now?”   
“I’d rather not be in front of so many people at  _ all _ .” Caleb grimaces and answers the unspoken part of Molly’s jibe, the tiefling chuckles warmly and bumps his hip to Caleb’s in affection. And waits. And Caleb adds, “I suppose that having a professional image is better than old blood.”

Caleb, Molly, and Beau had taken off the evening prior, slipping into the bath house to clean up just before it closed. Molly’s insistence, of course, they had to be nice and presentable for a festival and Caleb had been roped in by Beau- he wanted to avoid Jester anyway, she hasn’t let up on her  _ hitting on her _ jokes, it’s getting tiring.   
  
Molly sets an arm around Caleb’s shoulders and he jolts back to the present from the memory of Molly’s tattoos, from the memory of Beau leaving and Molly rounding on him, pinning him, so much taller when Caleb is curled in on himself.   
“Where’s your mind, darling?” Molly asks, murmurs into Caleb’s ear so nobody else can hear, and Caleb smiles a little.   
“You mentioned the bath house.” Molly feels Caleb shrug under his arm, “I was simply reliving the memory.”   
Molly breathes a laugh and kisses Caleb’s hair again, longer this time, more gentle.   
“We can revisit the idea later.” He promises against the shell of Caleb’s ear, “As long as we don’t die.”   
Caleb smacks at his leg.   
“Do not joke about it, Mollymauk, you know I fear for us.”   
Molly squeezes briefly and lets go, they’re reaching the cusp of how romantic they can be without the others catching on- except Beau, of course, who already knows- and they don’t want to risk being the distraction of the tournament.

They come trailing in, beat up, Beau hissing as she swipes a hand across her mouth and finds she’s been coughing up blood.   
“Hey, Fjord.” She calls, trying so hard to joke, “Look, I’m you.”   
He doesn’t smile at her gag, just pokes Jester and points until there’s blue hands on Beau’s face and medicinal herbs being plucked from pockets.   
When she’s been patched up, Beau fades into the background and comes to Caleb’s side.   
They sit, perch on the edge of the closest object, side-by-side.   
“That was… close.” Caleb says, quiet and unfocused, and Beau gives a quiet bark of laughter.   
“Yeah, Jester an’ I very nearly ended up as, uh,  _ Beauster _ .”   
Caleb squints at her a little, almost a frown.   
“Is that the best you could come up with.”   
“Yeah.” Beau doesn’t try to argue, just concedes, and they sit quiet for another minute or so.   
Beau fiddles with the bead at the end of her belt. It’s not a behaviour that Caleb has noticed before, and his mental notebook opens up, he scribbles it down with a tag of  _ nervous habit? _   
Beau leans toward him, a little at a time, like a falling tree, until her head is on his shoulder and neither of them could tell you how long she’s been there. They’re quiet.   
Molly slips away from Jester’s pattering hands to Caleb’s side, slips his fingers into his partner’s hair and strokes, gently, feels rather than hears Caleb’s hum.   
“‘S kinda obvious, don’t’cha think, Molly?” Beau’s shifted so her chin is on Caleb’s shoulder now, and he smirks at her,   
“I can play it off as teasing you, as long as you don’t move.”   
Beau thinks for a moment and gives a non-commital noise.   
“Fuckin’, I guess, whatever. You picked the comfiest person to date, though.”   
“I am all bone.” Caleb pokes at her, smiling despite the peril they’re sure to face. Another fighter goes down outside. “I am not comfortable, I don’t know how you can tolerate my points in your face.”   
“You’re warm, though.” Beau yawns and moves back to rest her cheek against his shoulder, “S’better than most of ‘em. You ever touched Jester? She’s  _ freezing _ .”   
Molly chuckles, changes his pattern of stroking Caleb’s hair, and checks over his shoulder very, very quickly before swooping in for the quickest press of his lips to Caleb’s.   
Caleb chases him a little as he moves away, and breathes,   
“I love you.”   
“Love you too, darling.” Molly’s smile is evident in his voice, and Beau makes a noise of disgust.   
“Gross. I’m right here, save that shit for the inn.”   
“It is your choice to lie on my shoulder.” Caleb pokes fun at her again, and she finally sits up, squints out of the window.   
“Looks like they’re almost done.” She tells them, “He’s gonna get fucked.”   
They follow her gaze as one of the minotaurs goes down and the other begins its stampede.   
“Up and apart, you two, we don’t want the others to think we care about one another.” Molly claps them both on the shoulder once and whirls around, back to the others.   
Beau catches Caleb’s wrist as he stands.   
“Don’t die, asshole.” She warns, “I’ll chase you to the astral plane and drag you back myself.”   
“We have a library to visit,” Caleb smiles as he shrugs, nonchalant, “I do not plan on letting myself get gored like that guy.”   
He jabs a thumb out of the window as the battle is called and the chains come in. Beau gives a quick bark of laughter and lets go, begins the lead back to the group, Caleb trails her.   
The doors open for them and he breathes deeply, they begin their walk.   
“Beauregard.” He says, quiet to her. She looks at him out of the corner of her eye, waving to the crowds, and he huddles between her and Molly to stay out of sight.   
“I care about you.” He tells her, so quickly that he might not have said it at all. “In a way, I love you. Please stay safe.”   
“Shut up.” she retorts, but the hand on his shoulder isn’t hard or bracing, it’s gentle. She doesn’t  _ need _ to tell him that she cares, she shows him, in the gentle contact, in leaning on him, in the fingertips pressed to her belt and the fear of his judgement in her eyes, the nervousness that she doesn’t reveal deliberately to anyone but Caleb, and subsequently, Molly.   
They split at the walls and the last thing Caleb gets is Molly’s hand at his wrist, quickly, fingertips pressed to bandages.   
“I love you.” Molly’s words are rushed and there’s a panic in his eyes, because they could  _ die _ , they’ve just seen a whole group be gored, and if these are his last words to Caleb, that’s what he wants them to be.

And then he’s gone, and Caleb doesn’t get the chance to say it back. He’s alone.   
Nothing new.


End file.
